Three Windmills
by LeakySneakyOprichniki
Summary: The Captain and his First Mate have the surprise of embarking on an entirely new sort of 'adventure'. Perhaps, they should have been more careful getting to know each other personally after a few relatively peaceful years of marriage. Complete.
1. 17 Weeks

**Here's something I've been itching to write. Now that I've somewhat settled into Cid n' Shera's characters, I figure I can drabble on something else that would be probable in their relationship. Something like this would probably take place after Advent Children. Shera is officially Cid's wife. How bout' that. **

**This will probably be a small series of three to four short chapters. We'll see.**

* * *

From what she read and was told by her physician, this was supposed to be exciting and painless. She was grateful for it. Most of the treatment Shera received before today required a great deal of uncomfortable insertions, pricking, and other precautionary administrations and tests. Not to mention all of the vitamins and pamphlets. Shera hadn't been to the doctor's this frequently since she struggled with Geostigma.

It was nearly four months ago that the symptoms presented themselves. Shera would have a late dinner with Cid after working the day away with the other employees on the oil drill, share a shower and a few well deserved kisses, and then lie down with him for the night soon after. It would have been restful sleep if it weren't for all the bubbling in her stomach, and the nauseousness that came to her if she had ignored it for too long. Cid was convinced it was overworking and indigestion, but something told Shera otherwise.

Then, there was all the tenderness, of which at the time, Shera couldn't explain. Of course, Cid complained about it (_Shera keeps tellin' me I c'aint touch her tits!_) when it came time to be intimate. After she'd had enough of feeling nauseous and fatigued and achy, she worried it might have been the stigma coming back to haunt her. Shera left for a visit on her free time, only to come back and (gently) report to her Captain that she was pregnant.

Surprisingly, it didn't take much convincing to get Cid to come with her. Shera pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and gave her husband a warm smile to comfort the both of them. She wasn't sure who was more anxious. He had been quietly muttering all day. It was probably him more than her then…

"So how's this suppos'd to go?" Cid came around to the other side of the plastic covered bed Shera was directed to lay on. His eyes drifted over the round of her stomach the moment she lifted her sweater. That tell-tale 'baby bump' was very slight at the moment, but was certainly there. There and making him nervous. Hopefully, his old habit hadn't hurt anything. It was the most that Cid worried about. He_ hated_ having to wear nicotine patches, hated having to let strangers in the house to professionally remove the effects of cigarette smoke, hated having to spend his own money to buy new furniture and clothes, but he'd do _anything_ to insure his child was healthy.

"We're just going to rub a bit of this gel on Mom's belly," Shera's doctor returned and answered before she could "and then we'll flick on the screens and see what's going on inside. We'll be sure to take pictures for you to take home, and for documentation of her progress." The doctor was obviously familiar with Shera, but Cid was a new face. They placed down a clip board and folder holding all of Shera's previous visit information, and extended their hand for a firm hand shake. "You must be Dad."

"Yeah, that'd be me." Though skepticism was written all over Cid's face, he returned the gesture.

A brief rundown of procedure was given again, and soon enough, the gel mentioned before was placed over Shera's stomach. "It's a bit cold." She softly laughed from nervousness, and anticipated the curve of the device in her doctor's hand to touch her slicked skin. "Sorry about that! Probably should have warned you."

Cid leaned over Shera's head the moment the physician stepped out of the way to allow the hopeful, future parents to see the screen. "Haven't a damn clue what I'm lookin' at here, Doc." He squinted. The dark, fuzzy screen was outlined in boxes, parameters, and numbers he sure as hell wasn't trained to read. The shifting picture and white outlines in the center of an arch were even more unreadable. It didn't look like much at all. Where was the baby?

"I'm sure he'll explain." Shera lightly touched Cid's forearm; eyes intently searching the screen as well.

"Haven't had the pleasure of giving this sort of news in a few years." They swept their hair over their doctor's smock and used their pen to tap the screen.

"News?" Shera was a little confused. "What do you mean?" Both she and Cid were still waiting for an explanation of what they were viewing.

"You see these here?" They didn't seem to mind Cid nosily moving a little closer. The tip of their pen circled and pointed out three large ovals of black in the shifting white image.

"C'mon Doc, what is it? You're killin' me."

"This is a head." The doctor took a delight in the bit of suspense they had caused. Cid breathed a momentary sigh of relief and took Shera's hand. "So that there's the b-"

"This is a head, too. And, so is this one." They chuckled and began to count. "One, two, three. Three heads."

"…Cid?" Both of Shera's brows arched and her hazel eyes widened behind her glasses. There was a long pause; room quiet before Cid dared to open his mouth again.

"Holy _shit._"


	2. 18 Weeks

**It really tickles me to imagine how Cid would react to such surprising news. I imagine he'd be excited, proud, and dreading every moment all at the same time. The Captain and his First Mate have a full family on the way in one go. Good luck to them both.**

**Moving on**

* * *

"We could get some help for the time being, but I think I might have to move on to something that pays a little more." Shera suggested while thoughtfully nibbling the tip of her pencil. She and Cid recently discovered that they would have to re-think their planning. They had begun preparations to welcome one child into their home, only to discover that they would have to make room for two more. That was the problem. They didn't have room for two more; not in the house, and certainly not in their current budget. Already weary, Cid had recollected a previous phone call to his good friend while partially listening to Shera's report on their monthly spending.

"Shit shit _shit!_" Vincent, being accustomed to Cid's typical greetings responded with a simple "What is it this time?"

"My poor Shera's gonna pop out three little fuckers!" Cid was delirious on the other end of the phone. He was glad Vince had finally racked up the nerve to get one, or he'd have no one else appropriate to rant to.

"Are you not excited?" Vincent didn't congratulate him, but he was congratulatory in the slightly surprised tone of his voice.

"What the hell kinda question is that? Course I am, Vince! _I just cain't afford all of this._"

At the very least, Cid was relieved that insurance covered most of Shera's appointments and other costs. Thinking of all he had to prepare and co-pay for stressed him, but he didn't want to seem as if the idea of having children with his wife fully repulsed him. He wanted to be in every (er, mostly every) part of the process, and support Shera in every way he could, but _goddamn. _

He really needed a cigarette.

"I might have to dig 'round for somethin' better, too." Cid sighed, sat back in his seat at the table, and rubbed the stubble on his chin and neck. "What are we doin' about space?" Babies didn't stay small for very long. A simple room with three cribs would only last them two or three years.

"Well, we have two options." Shera stacked a few of the bank statements that were scattered over the table, and placed her pencil down to pull the yellow band from her hair. The long brown strands fell around her pretty little face and shook with the scratching of her hand. "Consider working on the funds for a bigger home-"

"C'mon, Shera! We just cleaned this one out." Cid groaned. The idea of moving from their current little nook was more than unappealing to him. He fully understood the reason why, but Cid had a deep attachment to where they were. Their home in Rocket Town had plenty of landing space, a pin to hold spare planes, a great view (though the rocket was missing), not to mention he'd miss being well known. Besides, he _did_ already pay to have it properly cleaned.

"or," Shera's soft continuation cut through her husband's whining "we can ask permission and save funds to have this home renovated."

That was a slightly more attractive idea. Cid rubbed the side of his neck; blue eyes trained on the worn wood of the table in internal debate. "I don't know, Shera." He sighed through his nose.

"We can think about it more tomorrow." She politely stood to collect their documentation. Shera removed his goggles, smoothed back his hair, and warmly kissed his forehead when Cid leaned toward her attention. "I think it's time for bed." She coyly whispered near his ear and brushed her fingers over the hard knuckles of his hand. Shera removed her glasses after padding out of the kitchen. She was already half way up the stairs before Cid could reply. He sat up stiffly in his chair and blinked. It took him a moment to register. Soon enough, Cid was alert, out of his chair, and eagerly darting after her.

"Hey?! I'm not gonna hurt anything am I?"

"What do you mean, Cid?"

"Y'know… Churnin' butter a'int gonna hurt anything, is it?"

"No, I don't think you'll hurt anything." Shera could hardly answer through her laugh and the heated kisses she granted his neck.

"You sure?" His fingers were under Shera's sweater and at the clasp of her bra.

"You've been stressed, Cid." She was seated in his lap the moment he sank down on the bed. "Come rock me to sleep."


	3. 24 Weeks

**I'm actually no longer sure how long this fic is going to be. I have a few other connected drabbles drafted in a folder from speed writing. I guess that's a good thing if you're interested in reading. **

* * *

Shera wished she had a mind to remind herself to take pictures. There were images given to her after ultrasounds for the inside, but never any weekly documentation of how big she'd gotten on the outside. Her stomach swelled almost without notice through the first trimester. Almost.

Sighing, she settled on taking a picture of her side profile in the bedroom mirror while she had been thinking about it. It was somewhat nerve racking, somewhat exciting for Shera to look upon her progress every other day. As her doctor had mentioned, three would probably cause a larger 'bump' over time than the average one. The time to test that hypothesis, however, wasn't quite there yet.

The fourth month of Shera's pregnancy quickly bled into the fifth month, and with that month brought a new variety of symptoms other than her appearance. They certainly didn't come to Shera without her notice, or perhaps, it was more accurate to say they didn't come to her without Cid blatantly pointing them out. It was a good thing Shera had years to become accustomed to Cid's tradition of tactical complaining. Cid, Shera had experience with. Pregnancy, she did not.

With a keen scientist's curiosity, Shera had set out in search of creditable books and more experienced mothers with plenty of diverse advice. Some of the symptoms she was currently experiencing were familiar, and others she felt were quite bizarre and wondered if she should be concerned. Diligently, she made a check list in her personal journal, and made a point to show Cid whenever she had something scratched off. Not that he really needed to know, she just felt better having a good excuse to bother him before bed.

Shera knew what to do about her abdominal and back aches. She had expected them, but no one told her about having sensitive gums or the occasional nose bleed. Those seemingly random side effects had troubled her husband, but deceptively, they were normal. Shera was also aware of eventually having to buy new clothes to accommodate her expanding stomach, but didn't anticipate jumping up two full cup sizes (this didn't bother the Captain). The most peculiar thing about her current state was probably how horribly or…wonderfully sensitive she was. It was as if the slightest of her husband's touches could please her (this especially didn't bother the Captain). Speaking of.

"He won't mind if I send him this." Shera sat along the edge of the bed and wriggled her toes in a random surge of anxiousness since she was unable to properly cross her legs. She wasn't one to text, but since Cid's new job kept them both busy, it was one of the easiest ways to keep in contact with him. If the pictures and short messages bothered Cid, she would never know. He usually responded some time before he got home, regardless of when they were actually read.

"I, uh, got that picture you sent me." Cid watched Shera pace back and forth over the hardwood floor. Sometime after he'd gotten home, he shared a warm dinner with her, and slipped into the normal routine of winding down for the evening. He tossed his working gloves into a drawer on the other side of the bed. "You still feelin' alright, Shera? You said your back was hurtin'." Which was sort of an invitation for a rub if the ache was still there. If he did something now, he hoped it would deter her from waking him up at four a.m. to satisfy her weird ass fruit cravings.

"It's fine now, thank you for the concern." Shera's hands absentmindedly patted the sides of her stomach while she teetered back and forth. What was his woman's problem now? Cid wanted to ask, but last time he asked just a little too firmly, and she broke down and bawled on him. _It was terrifying and surreal to see Shera cry. _

"You sure? I don't really mind it." Cid removed his boots, his pants, his shirt, and then flung his goggles over the upper post of the headboard. "There a'int nothin' else…wrong? Should I have gotten you somethin' to eat before I came home?" Being attentive was such tough work. Cid didn't understand how Shera did it.

"That's very, very sweet of you Cid, but you don't have to. I'm fine. I just keep feeling this this_ thing_." Shera made an odd gesture with her hands while looking down at her stomach. "This _blip._"

"…blip…" What the fuck was that?

"Yes. One of the ladies on the second sector of the drill mentioned something about it." She snapped her fingers in trying to remember. "…hiccups!"

"Hiccups?" Cid's expression softened from the hard confusion it had been twisted in.

"Cid," Shera stopped pacing and looked to where he was "one of them has hiccups. Feel." She took Cid by both of his hairy wrists, and gently placed them on the sides of her belly. Both grew still and silent while they waited.

…

…

There it was. _Blip._

…

…

And then again._ Blip._

"Oh." And Cid thought stars were mystifying.


	4. 26 Weeks

**Neither of them have gotten the hang of things. I don't a parent ever really does **

* * *

Cid's hands were warm on the soles of Shera's feet. He thanked whatever god above that the both of them lived alone. Cid had received massages before, but he'd never really…administered them himself. When he first grudgingly offered his poor Shera to place her legs in his lap, it was awkward. The whole 'urge to pamper' thing was quite unlike him. Anything for his pregnant wife.

"If we have permission, we can start saving right away. We can pile gil here and there into the savings account at the bank, and I estimate we'll have enough funds for renovations in the next three years. That's not pushing time, is it?" Shera had been quietly rambling. Hands on her bloated stomach, she laid back at a relaxed angle on the couch. She sighed every now and again from tiredness and the attention Cid gave her swollen ankles.

"That'll be enough time." He resisted the urge to scratch at the nicotine patch on his upper arm, and took Shera's other leg in his calloused palms. He paused for a moment when Shera absentmindedly curled her toes. It was a fleeting thought: Shera paints her toes? It was apparent he was typically nowhere near her feet to ever pay attention. How the hell did she even reach them? Woman could hardly put her boots on in the morning.

"It's settled then." Shera yawned and pushed herself into a more upright position. Her lower back began to ache from being in the same state for a while. "If we have any left over this week, I'll place it in the account to get us started." She stifled a laugh when Cid's touch began to tickle. "Thank you." Shera removed one of her legs from the top of his thighs. "It feels much better." Very slowly, she maneuvered herself from her seat and onto her feet. Shera took a cooled and emptied tea set from the top of the coffee table in the living room, and paced to the kitchen to have it washed and put away.

Cid yawned after she had moved, and licked the spare sugar from the edge of his lips. He watched Shera when she returned a short moment later. There she was, pacing again. Always pacing; especially late at night. He didn't want to say it bothered him; he was just never given an explanation of the habit. It often appeared to rob her of sleep.

"Shera, I just rubbed yer' dogs. Why are you on em' again?" Cid began to crave something in his mouth, and looked around for anything to chew on. He had run out of tooth picks, and wasn't in the mood for the saltiness of sunflower seeds. Cid methodically reached for the left side of the goggles around his head, only to remember what he was looking for wasn't there.

Shera inquisitively pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and paused. She placed her hands at either side of her back before answering. "I have to walk to rock them. If someone's awake and moving around, quickening I think it's called, it means I've been still for too long."

"What!? They're movin' already and you didn't tell me? Are they moving now?!" Craving forgotten, Cid poised himself to spring up from the couch.

"No, sorry." Shera chuckled and grinned at his spurt of enthusiasm. "I'll let you feel if they move again." Which reminded her.

"You'd better! I wanna know what's goin' on in there." Cid slumped back in his seat again and chewed on the inside of his cheek. By the look on her face, Shera was going to continue the small conversation on a related topic.

"I had another appointment today. They wanted to know what I plan to do when it gets down to the birth date."

"What'd you tell em'?"

"They explained that it's likely that not all of them will be turned in the proper position when it's time for me to give birth." Shera's eyes fell to the floor; she was trying to recall more of what she was told. "I could begin labor on my own, or I could choose to have a C-section. " She knew she'd probably have to explain to Cid what exactly her choice was, but she also knew he wouldn't like it. From what Shera gathered, it seemed like the safest option.

"What'd you choose?!" Cid was still waiting for her to get to the point. He wasn't going to like it…was he?

"I told them I'd like a C-section." Shera was pacing again. Her tone drifted in and out with the distracting back and forth tilting of her head.

"What _is that_, Shera? Stop beatin' around the bush." He was a pilot, not a damn doctor.

"They'll…essentially cut my stomach open to safely remove them." It even sounded gruesome when she chose her words carefully.

Cid looked horrified. _"Ain't nobody cuttin' open my goddamn wife!_ They're babies not tumors!"

"Cid, I promise there's a perfectly good reason!" Shera trotted around the couch and placed her hands on his shoulders. She gently squeezed. "It's safer than trying to push them all here myself." She knew better than to ramble into the details again. "The doctor can tell you more about it if you'll go with me on my visit next week."

"Shera, darlin' , I don't want em' to mess up and hurt you." Cid tilted his head back against the edge of the couch, and his eyes met hers.

"I know you don't. We'll both have to have some faith." A gentle kiss was placed at the scrunched space between his eyes. Shera granted another to the bridge of his nose. Soft, steady hands moved from his shoulders to rub the sides of Cid's neck. "I do have much better news from my visit, though. Would you like me to tell you?" Shera's bangs tickled Cid's cheeks.

"If it ain't goin' to give me a heart attack, yeah. Gimme a report."

"Three girls with three strong heart beats, Captain."

"That's some damn good news…" A thoughtful smile tugged at the corners of Cid's mouth and crinkled the edges of his eyes. "We're gonna need to work on some names, Mama."


	5. 28 Weeks

**I estimate there being at least two to three more little chapters. I hope you've all enjoyed reading so far.**

* * *

A spoon hung from the corner of Cid's mouth when he was alerted by all the commotion upstairs. He knew Shera was home, on account of maternity leave, but hadn't called her yet to see where she was. It was a new addition to their routine. Cid would stop by the house for lunch, and check up on his wife to make sure she was doing okay home alone.

Something heavy fell and hit the hardwood upstairs. "Shera?"

"Up here, Cid." Her call back was slightly winded.

Cid immediately moved out of his seat at the table. Hot bowl of soup left behind, he climbed the steps of the stairs to investigate. "What'er you up to?" The floorboards creaked under his heavy boots. At the end of the hall, the light in Shera's old room flickered on. Cid had to turn himself sideways and shimmy between out-turned machinery boxes, and furniture to reach the open doorway. He poked his head inside; finding the dusty room empty aside from his wife standing distractedly in the center. She caught her already shortened breath, hands triumphantly on her hips, while looking over the blank paneled wall.

"There you are!" Shera turned to face him. She had clumps of dust in her hair and paint swatches protruding from her pants pocket. There was a familiar glimmer in her hazel eyes, and by the way she smiled, she was up to something that Cid was certainly going to be dragged into.

"You move all of this yer'self? Shera, you know you're not suppos'd to be heavy lifting." He nudged a drawer over by pressing his body weight against it. He strode to Shera's side and joined her in observing the wall.

"I know, Captain, but I just couldn't wait for you to come home." She dug the swatches from her pocket and passed them over for Cid to see. "I was thinking we could paint this wood, and I had to remove all the part boxes out so I could get a good look at the space here. I didn't do any lifting, but it was a lot of pushing." Shera pressed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and fanned her flushed face.

"You tellin' me you wanna decorate, Shera?" Cid held the three cards in his hand, and wearily examined them. One had different shades of rich purples, another, cool greens, and the last held a variety of gentle pinks. Nursery room colors… He probably should have seen this coming. They were going to have to clean out this old storage room at some point.

"I would really like to. I couldn't stop thinking about it this last night, or this morning. I went out after breakfast and went color hunting." Shera took the swatches back. "You don't have to help me," she rambled on account of her old habit "but I would at least like your opinion on measurements and colors before I start purchasing things. I think paint should be first, then nabbing those cribs we have on lay away, and then, hm...I'll have to continue to plan." She looked at Cid with her big, forest doe eyes and he knew he couldn't let her do it alone. He wouldn't let her do _anything_ alone.

The following week, Cid mustered all of his attention and followed Shera from store to store. Paint first as she had advised (they went with green), miscellaneous items to begin rolling on the paint and decorating, and lastly, the cribs. It took them most of a well weathered Saturday to cover the floors, sand, prime, and then liven up the little room. Cid and Shera had just enough time in the evening to look over their handy work. It appeared to be a very good start.

"You should come over and let me see! Come on!" Yuffie's voice was a chipper echo from the phone placed in the center of the room. Cid had clicked it there on speaker so he could use both of his hands to screw the wall socket covers back in place.

"I don't want yer' grubby little paws in my house." Cid sniggered. He was joking, but you never could tell when the girl was in a thieving mood. Better safe than mysteriously, a couple hundred gil short.

"Pfft! Whatever! Take pictures, okay? I could have helped you guys decorate!" Her voice was distant for a moment. "Oh, and Tifa says hiya and…" Yuffie's voice thinned again. She must have been visiting Seventh Heaven "She says for Shera to call her when she gets the chance."

"What for?" Cid wiped his paint splotched hands on a towel and poked his head out of the room to see where his wife had run off to.

"I dunno! See ya~" She hung up without allowing Cid to reply.

"Who was that?" Shera bumped an empty box aside with her hip. Cardboard that used to hold sturdy wooden parts slanted to the side of the hallway and fell over behind her. Upon returning to the room, Shera appeared deeply satisfied with their work in progress. She hooked her arm in the crease of Cid's hairy forearm, and fondly gazed over the freshly pieced together cribs.

"Yuffie. She was sayin' that Tifa wanted you to call her."

"Oh! Right, I forgot to respond to her message today." Shera didn't further explain.

He wanted to know what else she was up to, but Cid figured it was better to take it a day at a time. He was beat, hungry, and his back was hurting like hell from working a paint roller all day. If Shera mentioned anything else, it was sure to give him a head ache. What a labor of love.

"Get back to 'er when you can, then. Tifa's good people." She probably wanted to help the two of them along with their future bundles of joy. He couldn't help but think that Aerith, the poor girl, probably would have loved this, too. Cid shook the sad thought out of his head and wrapped his arm around Shera's back. "We done fer' the day, Mama?"

"Yes, sir." She leaned against Cid's side. The round of her belly gently bumped him. "Captain, what do you think of Sabreene?"

"Sa-wah?" The question felt random. Oh, she meant a name. "Er…I was thinkin' Cidney." He tugged her with him out of the room to allow the paint to continue to dry in peace. They were on the way to their own room to finish cleaning up when Shera verbally rolled her eyes.

"_Cid._"

"We got two more of em'! Calm down, woman." Wouldn't they want to name one of their children after the best pilot in the world? "If we clean up, and you go out for a bite to eat with me, we can toss a coin at the table."


	6. 32 Weeks

**Delivery day only two months away~**

* * *

Gentle green table cloths. Gentle green napkins. Gentle green gifts. A gentle green cake that had to be heavily guarded because Yuffie wanted to stick her goddamn fingers in the frosting. Tifa (bless her heart) was kind enough to throw Shera a small baby shower at her newly refurbished bar in Edge. Shera wasn't the one scheming this time. It took both future parents by surprise. The Captain and his First Mate received plenty of congratulations in Rocket Town, and a steady trickle of well-wishes from members of AVALANCHE as they arrived.

"How can a lady like that carry around such a huge belly?! She looks like one of those martini, toothpick-olive thingies." Yuffie voiced out loud at some point after the small talk and customary games of the get-together. Cid didn't expect the little thief after all this time to have a filter, but it peeved him that her comment was about his poor wife. Truth be told though, triplets at seven months; Shera's pregnancy was a little more than obvious. She stuck out like a…well, you get the point.

"She c'aint help it! Yuffie, shut yer' mouth." Cid's nose scrunched in the ninja's direction. He rubbed the nicotine patch on the back of his upper arm out of habit. He, along with everyone else, were waiting for Shera to return to the bar front so they could begin opening gifts. By Cid's notice and exaggeration, it was probably her 98844342323553th time getting up to use the bathroom today.

"You alright?" Cloud mumbled over the rim of his drink. Other than trying not to be as rude as Yuffie was with seeing Shera's progress, he detected the irritation Cid had with whatever was under his sleeve.

"Eh? Yeah, m' fine. I had to quit my smokes if you hadn't noticed. It's just a patch." Cid sighed and pulled out a set of plastic forks from a box when Tifa began to cut the cake in preparation of Shera's return.

"Did ya' woman make ya'?" Barret, though a bit late, had finally placed down his present from himself and Marlene at a designated table. He'd been listening to the conversation when he made his way over.

"I made myself quit. I was talkn' to this snotty little chick down at the warehouse a while back." Cid called her snotty because of the unnecessarily long pipe she used to smoke with. "She said she made er' five month old nephew sick, 'cause she's got cigarette smoke in her clothes. C'aint keep babies if you do. C'aint be around anyone pregnant either." He sighed. "It's alright though. Needed to quit, anyway." His lungs were probably charcoal.

"HA! You said the B-word!" Cait Sith swung from the counter top and plucked a green, wooden clothes pin from the fabric of Cid's shirt. Having no real clothes himself, the silly toy cat clipped it to his flicking tail along with the rest of his growing hoard. "Cait Sith claims another!" He cackled. It was a simple game (Don't say b-a-b-y or you lose a pin. The most pins wins), and he did appear to be winning. Other shirts were almost bare.

"Sorry about that." Shera teetered down the steps of the bar and returned to the party. She was excused upon returning to her seat. It wasn't as if no one could understand why she had to get up to use the bathroom 98844342323553 times a day.

"Ready to open presents?" Cloud stood and stepped over Nanaki, who was half asleep on the floor. He grabbed the first decorated green box on the corner of the gift table, while Tifa officially began to serve cake. The mother-to-be was given a piece first, and then all the guests after.

"Yes, please. I really can't thank you enough, Ms. Lockhart. This was so nice of you to do." Shera hadn't perceived that Tifa would throw a shower. Though, perhaps she should have when she called the young woman back and received a long string of curious questions. What color did you chose for the babies? What are their genders? When's your next visit to Edge? What supplies do you have, and what do you need?

"No problem at all! I'm excited for the both of you." She replied with a warm smile. Tifa's cinnamon eyes lit up with anticipation when she noticed which gift Cloud had chosen first: theirs.

Shera's careful fingers found the tape at the edges of the present first while Barret boisterously barked Nanaki awake. The paper was unfolded from its neat wrapping, and the cardboard top taken off. On the inside were three warm baby blankets (in green of course) along with a few bottles, and a card instructed to be opened later. Brows bowed in appreciation; Shera ran her palm over the soft material and air plane patterns. "These are lovely. We'll be able to hang them over the gates of cribs in the room upstairs."

"Sure will. S'awful thoughtful of you both. We hadn't been able to snag any blankets jus' yet." Cid had stood up from his barstool to help move the unwrapping process along. He placed the blankets back in the box when Shera passed it to him, and waited for the next item.

Leisurely, most of the members of AVALANCHE that had been able to attend presented their gifts one at a time. Yuffie who insisted having hers opened next, gifted the Captain and his First Mate Wutainese, jade, crib mobiles with an assortment of hand crafted birds in flight. Barret practically wrapped many sets of clothing in a variety of sizes. Cait Sith had 'magically conjured' the finest pacifiers on the Planet. That left Nanaki, who was still leisurely participating from the floor.

"You will have to pardon me for not having my own gift, but I hope you will accept Vincent's. He apologizes for not being here, but he keeps your good news in mind." With a stretch, Nanaki gestured to the last gift on the table with the tilt of his head. It was a very large box taped up, and signed in Vincent's distinct handwriting. "I took it upon myself to bring it here while he is away."

"Bring it on over then. I'll tell ol' Vince thanks later." Cid scooped the gift up. It was a little heavier than he expected it to be.

"How about you open that one, Cid? I know you two are good friends." Shera suggested. She placed her cake down and stopped eating because she prematurely ran out of room in her stomach.

"I got it, I got it." He bumped Yuffie's nosy little face out of the way with his elbow and pulled the box open; paper torn in small, messy piles. The inside was heavily padded with old newspaper and Styrofoam. Out of the mass of clingy white peanuts, Cid removed the first of a set of three unique bedroom lamps. They were porcelain windmills with moving parts, and boy were they a pretty sight. Good ol' Vince…

After guests claimed their game prices (Cait Sith claims the grand prize~!) they all re-congratulated Cid and Shera, and parted their separate ways to meet again some other time. The journey back to Rocket Town was a long one, but the day had rolled into a very comfortable evening. Before bed, Shera couldn't help but situate their gifts in the room upstairs.

Aside from regularly attending doctor's appointments, Shera had steadily been adding on here and there to the cribs already in the room. Each wooden frame was given one new blanket over the rail, new clothes stacked into a basket with donations to be washed, and bottles and pacifiers stored in a cabinet to also be washed when the time was right. Nervousness rose in Shera's throat (or was it common indigestion?) the more she delved into her own thoughts. Some certain someones would be preoccupying this room very soon, and she heavily wondered if either of them would be ready.

Uncharacteristically, Cid had entered behind her without a word. One, then two, and then three, beautiful mobiles fixed onto three empty cribs with a screwdriver. One, then two, and then three beautiful porcelain windmills placed on three separate shelf spaces anchored to the wall. He methodically plugged them in, and turned off the light to reveal crystal-like, kaleidoscope inner bulbs that gently cast their relaxing patterns over the wall through tiny window spaces. Three cribs. Three windmills. Three little girls.

Cid and Shera looked over the room in silence for a long moment, before Shera leaned against his shoulder and gently cried. The comfort of his arm supported the small of her back.

"Me, too, Mama."


	7. 35 Weeks

Shera was eased by the hot water of her morning bath. She placed herself on a padded stool, wiped the fog from her glasses on the counter, and ran a towel through her damp hair while the rest of her air dried. It was comforting; she wasn't the only one awake and ready for the crisp, pre-autumn day. Along with her current mood, the view outside was inspiring. The changing colors of the trees around Rocket Town urged her to prep for the shifting season.

"One…" Shera sat perfectly still "Two..three…" She was counting movement; doctor's orders. Fortunately enough, their triplets weren't having any suspicious lack of movement week by week. Sometimes, Shera inquisitively wondered what they responded to. When she was home alone, she'd give herself a gentle push or pat, or make an assortment of noises to see if there was a reaction. Her experiments were inconclusive, but still engrossing. She honestly enjoyed her time away from work. Being home alone left her with time to prepare for her last month of pregnancy, and scratch other important items off her chore lists. Today, she decided she would do maintenance work around the house. Cid had neglected to do so for the past five years, and plenty of the home was leaky and in need of replacement or repair.

Dried and dressed, Shera took a picture of her side in the bedroom mirror and sent Cid a text while he was on duty. When the message had sent, she clicked her cell phone onto its charger and padded out of the room in direction of the stairs. Out of a storage drawer, Shera took a pair of Cid's old, brown work gloves, and a slightly rusted tool kit from under the kitchen sink. She sat on her knees at a side angle and tightened a few bolts while she was there to stop an annoying leak from under the garbage disposal. Thorough in her work, she took a bit of electrical tape and wrapped it three times around the joint in the piping. "That will do for now." What else…

Much of the day was spent counting kicks and scratching tasks off her mental to-do list. The sink was an easy fix. Light bulbs were unscrewed and replaced just as quickly. The puzzle behind the water heater's sluggishness to actually heat was solved, leaving Shera with either fixing some of the cracked electrical breakers outside, or fiddling with her herb garden.

"Maybe I shouldn't press my luck." Shera muttered to herself. She knew damn well what she was doing, and Cid usually trusted her with the electrical box, but the last thing she wanted was some sort of accident. Better have the Captain deal with it when he gets home. The garden it is.

Knowing that Cid wouldn't mind, she took his gloves with her outside. By the time she ventured out through the door, it had already drifted into the late afternoon. She decided not to stay out for long. Her energy was waning, and she'd neglected to eat between her small breakfast and lunch.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Highwind. I have parcels for you and the Captain." Instead of being placed in the box, the mail carrier greeted Shera with a polite smile, waited for her to dust the planting dirt from her front, and handed her the packages one by one. Most were small enough for her to carry, but the heavier ones, were settled on the doorstep of the house for Cid to open later. If they were heavy, they were probably filled with ordered machinery.

"Thank you!" Shera waved as the other woman continued deliveries to the next home. "Junk, junk, junk…hm?" She tugged off one muddied glove, and placed a gardening shovel aside. Shera lowered herself to the porch steps to sit and alleviate the growing ache in her legs. There were some packages of ordered baby products for her, and then another letter addressed to Cid from "Johnny G. Highwind…?" She'd have to ask Cid who that was later.

Mason jars of tea and fresh herbs were restocked after Shera retired for the day. Habitually, by the time Cid had made it home in the evening, she was tucked like a fresh bun under a heated blanket on the couch; snoring or absentmindedly watching the small livingroom TV.

"You been layin' there all day, Shera?" Cid called out after making sure the door was locked. He rubbed the indent of his goggles after taking them off, and tossed his gloves over the back of a wooden chair. The smell of dinner still baking in the oven made his stomach growl.

"Mm, not all day." Shera poked her head from under the patchy blanket. Her glasses were crooked and she shifted a bit to fix them. "I went out to check the mail earlier. You have some packages, and a letter from Johnny G. Highwind. A relative?"

Cid closed the refrigerator door harder than he intended to. His back snapped into a very stiff, upright position. "Er…" _What the fuck?!_ He ain't heard from Papa Highwind in eons.

"Cid?" Shera sat up more and glanced over the back of the couch. She turned down the sound from the TV.

"Johnny G. Highwind is my daddy." The Captain awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Didja'….didja' open it, Shera?"

"No, sir? It's your mail, not mine. Should I have?"

_Shit, shit shit!_ "Nah, uh, I'll get 'round to openin' it later." Cid mumbled.

Shera didn't totally trust Cid's answer, but didn't bother him on it. "I hope you're interested in eating pot pie. I had to use that extra baking dough before it sat in the fridge for too long." She stretched as much as she could. Shera was dizzy when she stood and placed a hand to her forehead to synchronize her momentarily quadrupled vision.

"I don' mind. You alright there, Mama?" Cid nudged the mentioned parcels and letter out of the way with his shin (another issue for another day…), and met her halfway between the kitchen and living room. He placed his hands on her hips; not minding that her belly bumped him.

"I'm fine, Captain. I just rose a little too quickly." Shera rewarded her husband's attentiveness with one of her damn sexy, chocolate cake, strawberry lemonade, whipped cream, sweet-as-sugar smiles. A rather mischievous grin spread on Cid's face in reply.

"I know that look." Shera squinted in suspicion, though her smile remained. "That's the look that got us here." Cid knew exactly what she meant.

"When's the last time you rode this fucker to town?" He stepped around her and pressed his chest to Shera's back. Cid's arms wrapped around her upper torso and she lightly batted him in embarrassment.

"I'm not sure. It's been a little while." She gently answered. Shera quite clearly remembered saddling herself in Cid's lap, and riding him down and dirty on the flight deck on his birthday. Cid's birthday was February twenty second. Her due date was October twenty third. Funny story.

"We should change that, doncha' think?" He nibbled around the stud in her ear lobe. Sure, they'd have to play a little twister to get around the obstacle that was Shera's stomach, but they could make a little lovin' happen. Sex was a-okay until the due date, and that was a-okay with Cid.

"Sorry, Captain. No sweets before dinner. You'll ruin your appetite." Shera coyly stated. She gently removed Cid's arms to make her way back into the kitchen to check on the food in the oven.

"Then how's 'bout we change up the ol' routine? I'll bang you into the kitchen table, and we'cn eat after."

Shera pushed her glasses back up her nose and rolled her eyes. "You're silly, Cid." The oven clicked off with a chirp. She removed a glass pan with a crispy, buttered crust and sat it over the stove top to cool. "Set the table?"

"Yah, yah." Cid was still snickering, though; Shera knew he had probably been completely serious.

Talk over eating and some iced tea was business as usual. Shera presented some of their bank statements and reported to her Captain that saving was going smoothly. She also explained more of what she did today (while evading asking him about the letter again), and Cid was pleased that she avoided fiddling with the electric box. If something happened while she was working, he probably would have suffered an instant case of hypertension.

Dishes washed, nicotine patch replaced, request phone calls from the WRO replied to, and Cid was ready to hit the hay. That is, if Shera still didn't want to take up his offer. He was halfway up the stairs after clicking off all the lights, and making sure every door was properly locked. "Shera?" Cid asked. She was just standing there at the end of the hall; motionless with an unreadable expression contorting her face.

"Shera?" He called her again. Her teeth gritted from sudden pain in her lower back and abdomen.

"Cid…"

Forget about the goddamn box, Cid had an instant case of hypertension right now.

* * *

**We'll figure out what's in that letter eventually.**


	8. 36 Weeks

**Okay so… a few more extra chapters than I planned. The final isn't long away, though! Special thanks to reviewers. You know who you are~**

* * *

"You don't even know the half of it. I was gonna piss my fuckin' pants." Cid sighed in the receiver of his phone. He lingered in the doorway of the bedroom and glanced inside at the figure resting on the bed. He'd been traveling up the stairs periodically to make sure his wife was still okay. The last emergency visit they had taken to the hospital did more than spook the both of them. Thankfully, everything was perfectly fine.

Shera, as usual, was tucked and toasty under her electric blanket. Instead of the couch, she had retired to bed early that evening. He didn't blame her, as it was coming down to the wire, his poor wife didn't get much sleep at night. The bedroom door was quietly cracked with another sigh, and Cid turned to travel back down the stairs.

"I'm glad you didn't do so." Vincent responded in his typical monotone. There was an odd echo that followed his voice. "False contractions?"

"Yah, Braxton-whatevers. Got a weird name for everything." Cid stomped down a curled up corner of the patchy green rug under the dining table, and then flung open the fridge for something to eat. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that even when she was tired, Shera was thoughtful and worked ahead. Probably in anticipating long spells of fatigue, she had gotten in the habit of making pre-made meals when she had the energy during the day, and writing Cid's name on the ones he could have for himself. Honestly, he couldn't survive on his own.

"Hn." Vincent grunted. There was that weird ass echo again.

"Vince, where the hell are you? Yer' not mopin' around in that fuckin' cave again?"

"…" Vincent was silent for a moment. "What I do in my free time isn't much of your business now is it? Tell Mrs. Highwind I wish her the very best of luck."

"Whatever. Oh, uh, those windmills. Never got to thank-"

"Don't mention it. Another time." Vincent hung up.

Weirdo.

Food steaming from the stove top, Cid plopped himself down in a chair and prodded noodles with a fork. He propped his legs over the edge of an unopened machinery box and nudged off his shoes with the hard toe of his work boots. He was halfway done with his solitary meal when he spotted the letter he had also neglected to open. As if the parcel would detonate and set him on fire; Cid bent over a bit, and timidly edged at it with his fingers. "Let's see what the old man wants…" He muttered while ripping the paper open with his teeth and beginning to read. Cid broke out in a cold sweat.

His father had sent a warning. Johnny G. Highwind was coming to visit his only son in Rocket Town.

"_Shit._" Cid tossed the letter aside like it was hot wire and thickly swallowed. He couldn't think of anything worse. Well…actually, he could. Maybe, maybe it wouldn't be too bad? In all of his inward honesty, if he could bear through meeting Shera's mother, then he could probably bear through having to deal with his father again. Hell, his father was a huge ass, but Shera's mama was a _stone cold bitch_. And he couldn't for the life of him understand why. The very thought still made Cid incredibly guilty. He knew good and well the torment he must have put Shera through after that failed launch. Goddamn, that's how she could deal with him! Cid had been _nothing_ compared to her mother.

His thoughts were muddled and Cid lost his appetite. With not much else to do, he wrapped up his food, made sure to clean up his work in the garage, and locked the door. He climbed the stairs for a final time after clicking off the light, and bumped the bedroom door open with his shoulder. Shera hadn't moved, but she was awake.

"You alright?" He asked her while tossing his dirty shirt in a hamper.

"I'm fine, Captain." Shera stretched as much as she could. She groped the nightstand on her side of the bed for her glasses, and fixed them onto her face. "Are you alright?" She could read him like the morning paper.

"I'm alright, Mama." He mumbled; stripping down to his underwear.

"Did you find something to eat?" Shera steadily watched him come around to his side of the bed to lie down next to her. She drew up the cord to her blanket and clicked it off when heat finally flowed through an upper vent in the room.

"Dug out whatever was already in the fridge." Cid chewed the inside of his cheek. He hadn't smoked in months, but he still got occasional cravings. Recent news and events had him a little stressed.

"That's good." Shera was still watching his expression. She could sense when he was feeling particularly…grumpy. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Said I was sure. You? Been sleepin' all day." He tossed his goggles up over the post of the headboard and yawned a loud, throaty yawn. Cid absentmindedly scratched the wiry hair that trailed up from his lower stomach to his navel.

"Just tired, but I think that's normal. And…leaky." She didn't go into detail. Shera was told ah, leaking in more places than just her bladder was normal, too.

"Couldn't imagine." Cid paused. "Er…Shera," He began to change the subject "might seem a lil' random, but I was thinkin' about somethin'. How come yer' mama butts heads with you?" Butting heads implied that Shera snapped back, but it was the best and most tactful way that Cid could put it.

His wife was quiet in thought for a very long moment; as if she were debating whether it was proper to tell Cid why. Shera adverted her eyes, tucked a supportive pillow between her legs, gently turned into a more comfortable position on her side. Her lips parted. Some sort of small sound escaped her.

"It's just that…I finally got roun' to readin' that letter. My daddy wrote me that he's coming to visit. Said he didn't know he was gonna have grandkids." But Cid knew better than to accept that that was the only reason he was coming by. "He ain't the nicest person to be around, but I figure he's probably better company than Mrs. Joules. No disrespect or nothin'." Already having an idea of what was on her face and mind; Cid didn't need to turn his head to look at her.

"I can tell you why, Captain." Shera finally answered. She draped an arm over the side of her heavily bloated stomach, and touched his forearm. "When I'm ready." Shera pressed her lips in a tight line. They formed a soft smile in an instant. The reason must have been unpleasant, and she was hiding it. There wasn't much that Shera mentioned about her family. "Is this why you're worried?"

"Pfft, worried?" Cid blew out a gruff stream of air through his nose and yanked off the lamp light. "Nah. "Yer' a strong little lady, you know that?" Cid rolled from his back onto his side facing her.

"Why do you say that?" Shera adjusted the pillow between her legs. Her glasses were crooked on her face. Finding it a little cute, Cid tugged them from her nose and placed them aside. He figured she wasn't going to get up anytime soon. He really had no clue why she even stuck them back on.

"You put up with your ma for who knows how long. You put up with me. You put up with numbskulls at the drill. You put up with bein' like this." Cid granted her stomach a gentle pat. "Couldn't work for the rest of my life n'be half as patient as you are." And kind, and thoughtful, and caring, but he wasn't going to mention all of that. It went without saying.

"Oh." Shera pulled the edge of her lip between her teeth. Cid normally never talked to her this way. Perhaps, now was the best time to get all the encouragement she could get. "Thank you. I'm very flattered." The last sentence came in a slight grunt. Of all her symptoms, Shera probably liked practice contractions the least.

"Hey, don' mention it. You just hang in there, alright, Mama? I'm gonna take care of you. All of you, y'hear?"

"I hear you, Captain." Her lukewarm blanket was tugged over her shoulders. Shera's eyes drooped. "When is your father planning to visit?" She caught his yawn from earlier.

"Er…tomorrow." They probably would have had more time to prepare if Cid had read it earlier…


	9. 37 Weeks

**Ah, I'm sure you've all be waiting patiently. Sorry about the bit of a gap between updating. I had a family reunion the past independence day weekend, with plenty of kinfolk' to mingle with. **

**On with the show. **

* * *

Not having really been asleep, Shera was the first to get up when a knock came to the door the very next morning. She wriggled her stiff toes and moved as fast as she could to see who it was. She cursed herself for forgetting to put on her glasses first. Her journey to the bottom floor of their home was terribly blurry.

"Who is it?" Shera called out first. There wasn't a point in looking through a door side window. She couldn't see.

"Johnny! Ain't ch'all know I was commin'?" A reply was muffled outside on the porch.

The voice, much deeper than she had expected, spooked Shera and she swiftly un-clipped all the metal lock latches. "I wasn't expecting you this early, Sir." Cid's father's voice prompted her to adopt an at-attention behavior. She stepped out of the way to allow him inside once the door was finally open. "Please, have a seat. It's cold out. I'll make you something warm to drink. Coffee?" Shera had already pulled out a chair at the dining table and squinted through dragging out a can of coffee grinds. She was relieved to find her old pair of circular glasses in a drawer near the sink with a few safety goggles while she tried to make more at home. They were scratched and smelled of motor oil, but they would do for now.

"Now, ma'am, you'cn get to all of that hospitality later. Let me get a good look at ya' first. Give yer' daddy-in-law some sugar, neh?" Johnny held out a warm hand and tugged Shera back in his direction.

She was immediately flustered; a soft hue had settled in her cheeks. "I'm sorry, sir. I probably should have better introduced myself. My name is Shera, maiden name Joules. You probably already know I'm Cid's wife." Shera allowed him to spin her by her wrist in a slow circle.

"Ain't you precious?" He stopped her; facing him. From what she could tell, was assessing her with keen, brown eyes. "And good glory! How many you havin'?! A litter? You're rounder than a porch cat." Johnny was clearly joking.

"Triplets, Sir." Shera was not. "I'm due in two weeks."

"Well, I'll be." He rubbed his clean shaven chin, smirked, and took a small comb to slick back his brown hair. While he was sizing her up, she was studying his face, and the resemblance between father and son was almost eerie. If Cid were standing here now, Shera probably would have been able to clearly see Johnny's face in his. "Heard from a couple of grapes on the vine that y'all was having kids. Hardly knew my own son was even married. Sorta-kinda hurts an old man's heart." He tilted his head into a pout, and Shera's blush grew darker. He was…rather charming.

"Ah, I'm so very sorry to hear that. At least now you have a good opportunity to catch up." She timidly pressed her glasses back up her nose. "Please, have a seat though; I'm sure Cid will roll out of bed when he's ready. I'll get the coffee going."

"Thank you, kindly, Mrs. Shera." Johnny plopped down in a seat and stuck his comb back behind his ear. He followed Shera with his eyes while she scooped out a bit of coffee and dumped it into a clean filter. "I also heard from some folks that you'n the Captain was saving up." had a good ear lent out for money talk…

"Yes, Sir. We've been putting gil away here and there so that we'll be able to add some rooms in the house. We have a nursery ready upstairs, but it won't last long. We need to add at least two more rooms and another bathroom in the next two to three years." She poured a good amount of water into the coffee maker, and pressed a button to turn it on.

"How much y'all saved?" He kicked up his heavy boots over an empty chair and leisurely leaned back. The metal spurs on his heels glinted in the early morning light that flooded in through a small window over the kitchen sink. Shera didn't detect anything odd in his curiosity.

"About fifteen thousand gil. It's a bit, but we still have plenty of saving to do. Our goal is fifty thousand to cover all the costs."

"I see." He didn't ask anything else on the subject.

"Do you fly, Sir?" Shera felt a little uncomfortable when the conversation drifted into silence. The sound of the coffee maker sputtering was joined by the change of topic.

"Hell nah. Dottie's the blue bird. Could hardly get that thick assed, busy body to stay on solid ground. Dot is Cid's Mama. We split long while ago, so I ain't got no idea what she's up to. Probably still flyin'." Johnny could see Cid drag himself down the stairs out of the corners of his eyes.

"Why the fuck ar_e you _here?" Wood creaked under his footsteps. Cid sank down in a chair at the other side of the table and glared in his father's direction. He appeared stony, but on the inside, Cid was incredibly nervous. Daddy Highwind was trickier than a goddamn ferret, and harder to catch than a chocobo. He didn't think this was a friendly visit in the slightest._ This is old fucker wants something._

"Just wanted to see all this good news m'self. Why you gotta be so mean to me, eh?" There was a sly grin on Johnny's face.

"Sure you do. What the fuck you_ really_ want? If it's about gettin' to ShinRa, you're out of luck. That whole company is tanked."

"Jus' told ya, son. Just wanted to come here and see the wife and kids. S'pose I came too early to see the little tykes. Ain't this the doll that ruined-your-life?" Johnny figured Cid had clung to the nearest female that would tolerate him. At least she was nice looking.

"She ain't ruin nothin." Cid muttered low. He cut eyes in Shera's direction to see if she was listening. Knowing her, she was; even if her back was turned while she dug around in the mug cabinet. It seemed to roll right off her back though. Shera waddled with that round belly to the table and placed mugs of fresh coffee in front of the both of them.

Cid still stiff in his neck, Johnny eventually got around to telling the future parents that he was staying in the small inn across Rocket Town for a few days. He noted that the rocket (of course) was missing, and even questioned Cid about his previous journey with the rag tag team of anti-ShinRa rebels, and his current work with the WRO. Eventually, Cid had to back out of the conversation to prepare to go to work. He didn't feel comfortable leaving Shera alone with his father, but he didn't have much of a choice.

"I'll be fine, Cid. I could probably use the company." Shera finally had the opportunity to switch out her glasses upstairs. She lightly touched Cid's back while he yanked on one of his blue work shirts.

"That ain't company you want to keep. Trust me, Mama. Just… keep an eye on him. A'right?" He pecked the edge of her lips. "Don't forget to send me one of them pictures in the mirror. I gottah go before I'm late." He was soon gone; leaving Shera to her own devices as usual. She had the urge to fiddle around in the garage. Perhaps, she would.

In general, Mr. Highwind was very pleasant company. He minded himself, helped Shera when she needed it, and made interesting conversation (even some boyhood incidents Cid had neglected to mention). She figured she liked, and got along very well with Johnny Highwind. Shera had her own set of keen instincts, but so far, she couldn't figure out what Cid's problem was with his father. Yes, he was uncouth at times, but that certainly wasn't anything that Shera wasn't accustomed to.

"I know ya' feet er' probably hurtin', you been up all day Mrs. Shera, but mind comin' here? I wanna talk to ya'." Johnny's voice filled the garage. Shera came to attention again (almost bumping her head under the hood of the junk car Cid had yet to do anything with) and answered his request. "What can I help you with?" She removed the work gloves her husband kept around the house and tossed a wrench back into a tool box on a dusty shelf.

"I wanna help y'all with yer' saving." He spoke low, almost intimately; as if someone else might have been listening.

"Help us? You don't have to do that." Shera leaned in to pay attention. She shook her head at the suggestion.

"Nah, Mrs. Shera." Johnny was distant in his deep brown eyes for a moment. He seemed different under the flickering of the garage light. She was convinced he was deeply hurt. "I jus'…I feel bad for leavin' my only boy all to his ma all those years. Guilt givin' me more gray hairs than age. Y'know?"

"I see…" She pursed her lips, and Shera's brow bowed in sympathy.

"I feel like the least I could do is help my son out with his wife n' kids. That alright with you?" He leaned against the side of the old vehicle while brushing rust from his calloused palms.

"That would be alright with me." She slowly nodded, though, wasn't sure what Cid would think. Shera absentmindedly rubbed the side of her stomach while she mulled it over in her head.

"You got fifteen thousand, right? Let me fork over the rest. I can transfer thirty five k before I hit the road again." Johnny held open his cleaner hand for Shera to take; thumb swiping over her knuckles.

"You would really do that?" Something was nagging at the very back of her head.

"Course I would." Johnny grinned; showing a full set of pearly white teeth. "Have to make amends." He granted Shera firm handshake; deal.

The next week was red. Much more red than the leaves that began to turn crisp and fall from the few trees around town. Johnny stayed and continued to become familiar with Shera, and then re-familiar with his son. It was a mellow occurrence. Nothing amiss, and with the extra company and support, Shera was feeling incredibly optimistic about the future (giving birth included). As promised, Johnny had transferred the gil he said he would. Shera was quite pleased, and had planned to surprise her husband with the good news until she had noticed something peculiar with their checking, and savings account. All of the gil, what Johnny had given and what they had originally saved, was gone; as if it'd never been there in the first place. Cid's father took off like a yellow, beaked beast. Never heard of again.

Shera was so angry and atypically red in the face, she could have cried (actually, she did). She knew what Cid's grudge was against his father now. Johnny G. Highwind was polite, and charming, and _a downright con artist. _

She had messed up again.


	10. 39 Weeks

**Sorry again for the pause. I'm getting ready for school in the fall.**

* * *

Cid had vowed to never raise his voice at his woman, but he did just this once because she couldn't hear him past her hick-upping, and sniffling, and the pitiful salt water in her eyes. Shera's glasses were crooked on her dampened, reddened face, and he was afraid she'd pass out because she was bawling too hard to even breathe right.

"SHERA." He took his wife by her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. "I ain't gonna chop your head off!" Cid's blue eyes were stern past the anger that obviously contorted his face. Okay, he was fucking _pissed off. _His jaw was locked in place, and on the inside of his mouth, his teeth were clenched. He wasn't angry at Shera, though. He knew her, and he knew his low down, good for nothin', money hoarding (his mother always did like dragons), jackass of a father. He should have told her, goddammit! It wasn't like Cid didn't anticipate Johnny being a snake. He just didn't expect the man to target his wife, and steal from his own grandchildren. Can the bar be any lower?

"Cid, I-I'm so _sorry_, I should have waited. I thought he was h-here to help." Shera allowed Cid to usher her toward the couch. He let her shoulders go to collect what little patience he had. The hardwood creaked under his boots, and he began to pace. It only served to turn his skin a few shades toward normal.

"Shera, I shoulda' jus told you what he was! I didn't want you't think bad of the kinda family you'd have for our kids…I was being a fuckin' idiot, alright. If I told ya, he wouldn't have been hangin' over yer shoulder." Stupid, stupid, stupid. Cid wanted to knock himself over the back of his head with the blunt end of the spear he had hanging over the kitchen cabinets.

"But it's my fault, and now we don't even have enough for the week." Shera bit back a hard frown and the sharp, guilty burn in her throat. It was true; Johnny took more than their savings. The regular checking, and saving account ,besides the one they had for renovation funds, were swiped clean. If Cid wanted Shera to have at least _something_, to go into the hospital with next week, he'd have to haul ass to his next pay check. That still didn't count for bills that needed to be paid while she recovered, or the day to day things they'd need to care for the triplets when they brought them home. Shit, the more he thought about it, the angrier he was, and the more he began to _panic_. The best thing they could do for now was to call the bank and schedule for all their information to be changed (if you don't think Johnny G. Highwind would double dip, think again).

"Ain't no use in reporting. They'd never catch that son of a bitch." Cid grew weak in the knees and sank down next to Shera on the couch. She was still wiping her eyes even after running out of tears. He knew exactly what she was saying to herself in her poor head. "You ain't mess nothing up again, you better fuckin' cut it out." He turned his head in her direction and met her puffy eyes. Cid knew she didn't deserve to be stressed out. She'd been stressed out for nine months, and it was coming down to the wire. This just wasn't fucking fair.

"Captain, but-"

"You didn't know. I knew n' I didn't tell ya." Cid held open his palm for Shera to take. "Now you calm down, doc says you ain't supposed to be upset. We'll work this out, y'hear me?"

Shera very slowly nodded her head and dabbed a bit of moisture that dripped from her nose. The clenching in her throat had eased along with the bright color in her face. She threaded her fingers in the spaces between Cid's, and squeezed his rough palms. The guilt, a very familiar kind, hung heavy on her heart. "At one point," she exhaled a wavering breath and adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose "I said I would have taken your father over mine, but I don't think that that anymore." Her free hand was placed on the round of her heavily bloated stomach.

Cid didn't know what she meant by that, but he knew Shera long enough to sense she was getting ready for some sort of disclosure. Normally, he would have replied, but he was silent while waiting for her to continue.

"My mother doesn't like me because of him." That was the simplest, most tactful way to put it. The slight change of topical was somewhat assuaging. Shera tilted her head upward to stare at the patchy, wooden ceiling.

"What's wrong with em'?" Cid placed one arm over the back of the couch behind her head, and Shera used his forearm as a pillow. She fell silent for a long moment while trying to sort out her emotions and thoughts. This wasn't easy to explain.

"He and she are not close. They don't actually know each other; not personally."

"One night stand?" The Captain's absently swept over Shera's opal wedding ring.

"Sexual assault." Her lips pressed into a tight line.

Ah, shit. Cid visibly grimaced. She didn't need to explain anything else. How fucking, _awful._

"He's the stranger she holds all of her hate toward. I've seen him once; I've been told we have a strong resemblance. I think that may be why she can be so bitter towards me. I don't blame my mother though; she was stuck with something she never asked for." Shera very slowly sighed through parted lips. She lowered her head when Cid had yet to reply; searching his face for a reaction to what she had just told him. His expression was still taught, and hard to read.

He was honestly at a loss for words. It was something he had never known about Shera until now. Cid could totally understand why she typically chose not to speak about it. Hell, that was pretty damn rough.

"That ain't your fault either, Shera." Cid hoped with all his heart Shera never told Ms. .Joules she was sorry.

"I've told myself that a thousand times." She pushed her glasses back of the bridge of her nose. A very dry smile formed on Shera's face, and then faded as soon as it came. "Some part of me has always felt guilty for something. I don't know how I could ever make it up to her, in place of my father. I don't know how I'll be able to make up for this, either." She stared over the concave line of her stomach to the litter of bank statements on the coffee table.

Looks like they were both stuck with stacks of shit; it explained a lot. "Ain't nothin' you can do about that. You and I are gonna hustle, alright, Shera?! Don't go blamin' yourself, I'm not gonna give you hell, and I won't let you give yourself hell either." Cid hooked his arm around her shoulders and brought Shera close to kiss her temple. They stayed like that for a while. The house was drenched in silence until Cid spoke again.

"You know I'd never do anythin' to hurt any of ya, right? I ain't gonna fucking steal from my kids." His lips were on her forehead. He was trying to hold in the anger that had rose again and began to burn in the very pit of his stomach. Simon, Samson, and Cidney weren't even here yet, and he already ached for them.

"I know you wouldn't, Captain. I know." Shera felt like crying again. "I know you wouldn't."

"M' not gonna be anythin' like that. I'll be the best damn daddy on this planet." And Cid fully trusted Shera when said she would be the very best mother. What a long road ahead.

Thankfully, Barret fully empathized with Cid and was kind enough to lend the Captain some gil. It was just enough for the week, and just enough to ensure that Shera could have a somewhat clear conscious going into the hospital. When that would be, however, was unsure. It didn't take long before she was officially nine months pregnant, and her estimated due date was upon them. The previous week was full of cold weather, shared paranoia, and some amount of emotional and physical fatigue. The previous week's scandal hung over both of their heads, Shera couldn't sleep because of fear of her water breaking in the middle of the night, and Cid was bone tired from extra charters, but couldn't sleep because Shera couldn't fucking sleep.

It was an early morning, a day after her official due date had passed, that Cid found Shera far off in the other room. She'd turned the windmills alongside the cribs on, and pushed herself with the ball of her foot in the rocking chair while submersing herself in her thoughts. Shera seemed at peace for a moment sitting there in the dark, so he decided to wait before calling her name and disturbing the calm she was in. She appeared partially asleep, hallelujah if she was. Cid would have turned around and left her be if she hadn't opened her eyes and mouthed his name. He could see all the tiredness in her face; he could see that she was ready.


	11. Birthday

** Last chapter. Thank you all for reading! **

* * *

Cid was in no way squeamish, but a majority of the procedures he chose to sit and watch over were absolutely _cringe _worthy. He knew it was going to be a long night when he found Shera in the nursery, and he knew it was going to be a long morning when they gave his wife her epidural. They wouldn't allow her to see the needle. Shera asked Cid how big the long ass, mosquito-leg poker was, and he lied and told her it wasn't much. If that made him anxious, the c-whatever was probably going to make him bilious.

He held her hand when they laid her down, and watched them hook her up to all sorts of weird machines. Cid wasn't too keen on having to change his clothes either, but the nurses insisted he had to if he wanted to be at Shera's side during delivery. Cid kept his tired eyes trained on her face because he really couldn't focus on anything else. Everyone in the room was working around her…cooch and he felt a little dumb for it slightly bothering him.

Shera seemed so calm, though. She neatly laid her hands above the bloat of her stomach and looked, and responded to questions whenever she was directed to. The doc they had been transferred to in the small hospital (who was practiced in multiple birth apparently) gave them both a general description for what was about to happen, confirmed that Shera was fully numb, asked her if she had any final requests, and like that, they hopped right to it. He turned his head to one of the three heart monitors in the room. He could hear the stick-up-the-butt physician working. Cid just couldn't look while they were.

"I'm fine, Captain. Everything is okay." Shera squeezed the hand that held hers. She was un-fucking-believable sometimes. Wasn't _he_ supposed to be the one comforting her?

Approximately nine months of shenaniganry, and all three of their girls were delivered in less an hour.

SIMON SIERRA HIGHWIND delivered 4:23 AM. 5lbs 3oz

CIDNEY SKYLAR HIGHWIND II delivered 4:39 AM. 5lbs 6oz

SAMSON SABREENE HIGHWIND delivered 5:04 AM. 5lbs 4oz

It only took them an extra half hour to properly stitch Shera back up and grant her a few oddly named medications. They were all thankful that the surgery proceeded with little difficulty. They had them washed up, checked for any precautions, and properly name tagged with bands around their wrists. Simon, Samson, and Cidney were given back to to be held by their exhausted mother (aside from Cid being there with her, that was Shera's only request). Only two infants fit comfortably in her arms at once, and all three just long enough to take a few decent pictures. Cid's phone buzzed periodically with message responses most of the morning.

_(1/1)No, I'm awake. Congrats, Cid. Tifa has a basket for Shera._

_(1/2)Why are you messaging so early?  
_

_(2/2) Oh, they're adorable..._

_(1/2)Ya woman looks worn out. _

_(2/2)Better take care of her!_

_(1/2)Hey! You're a dad now. You can add this achievement to your sash of cranky old man patches._

_(2/2)You gonna pay me to babysit, right?_

The room was rather quiet while things were being sorted out. From beyond a window, transferred back to a more rest suited facility, Cid could see the first warm hues of morning light. The curtained glass cast symmetrical brackets over the sheets of the room's bed and bathed Shera in ginger. He propped himself up in yet another stiff hospital chair, resisted the urge to chew on something, and continued his dignified job of being his wife's support. Cid only gotten a few hours of sleep, but he knew better than to complain.

"Know what yer' doin'?" His voice was textured by resisting the urge to yawn.

"I think so." Shera's voice was equally grained. She somewhat figured out how to nurse, leaving Cid with one to hold. Nervousness twisted the very pit of his stomach. It was rare that Cid was speechless, but the sight in his arms humbled him deeply. A full head of blonde hair, closed content eyes, and pink little faces and fingers; they were so damn _tiny_. So very tiny, and so very delicate in his big, hairy forearms. Cid didn't have a gentle bone in his body until today.

"Damn..." He mouthed to himself. Shera looked over the side of her pillow with very crooked glasses. Tiredness had caused her hazel eyes to droop, but in their cores, he could tell that she was just as content.

"You know you're going to have to work on that now." The grin she gave Cid was a goofy one. Shera was already proud of him for putting down cigarettes…even if he constantly grumbled about the quitting process. She was sure he could get the hang of learning to censor himself.

"Now? They cain't understand it yet!" Cid slowly moved the crease of his arm in the way the nurse had demonstrated earlier. Support the head? He sure as hell hoped he was doing it right.

"They say time flies. They'll start talking in the next three years. Better start early." Shera's dumb grin thinned into a very small smile. With her eyes closed, she sighed. Cid knew the tone well.

The next three years, huh? "Don't you go'n worry 'bout that money, Shera. We'cn recover, get back on our feet, save again." Something like that. He could admit he was a little iffy about what they were going to do about child care funds. When they get the hospital bill, his recent paycheck was probably going to bleed right through the cracks of his fingers.

"I know we can, Cid."

Shera didn't know Cid had it in him to be a worrier, but he called her at least every other hour while she was recovering at home. He just wanted to know if she and the girls were doing okay. Ideally, Cid wanted to take off work for a few days to help his wife adjust to tending to their children, but he knew he couldn't. The few days after the hospital visit were an aggressive dash to get home to his family.

The Captain was somewhat hopeful when Shera mentioned they had someone volunteer to help. His hope was thrown out the door when he realized it was Yuffie. Worst babysitter _ever_. She kept blurting Cid questions over his voice mail. "Why is the color in this room _barf_?!" And of course the occasional back handed compliment. "Aww~! They're loud and pissy like you!" Shera was very happy to have her company. Supposedly, Yuffie wasn't all that bad with babies. Supposedly…

It was also surprising (okay maybe not all that surprising) to find that many Rocket Town residents had their noses stuck in, and heavily invested in their business. Cid was the only town...celebrity, and when word got around that she was pregnant; the civic was buzzing again. A bit more than when Cid and Shera were married, and much more when they renewed their vows after her Geostigma scare. Shera had come to expect the random visit here and there. Sometimes it was someone she recognized, like Cloud (who had come to deliver a care package from Tifa), or even Vincent (as mysterious as he was). Other times, it was someone she vaguely remembered. They wanted to, with a pretty please, come in to see the Highwind triplets. It tickled Shera that they had already made a name for themselves. Cid would be more than happy to soak up the spot light for them. He already walked with squared shoulders and a pridefully puffed chest.

"In a moment!" Shera called from upstairs. A knock came to the door, and she took her time carefully climbing down the steps to answer. Minding her soreness, and keeping an ear trained for upstairs, she assumed it was another random pop-in and unlocked all the latches to the door. Shera expected a body, but found nothing but her mail for the day stacked neatly in the box on the porch. "Thank you!" She caught the mail carrier just as they were rounding the corner to another house.

"Let's see her." With things locked up again, Shera laid a small package for Cid, probably more machinery parts or a toy, on the table and sifted through the letters. She tossed what she knew was junk in the trash, and then paused when she saw a letter addressed in legitimate, cursive handwriting. "To Cid and Sheraton Highwind…" Shera mouthed as she read "From Dottie Highwind." This letter was from Cid's mother?

When Cid was finally home, both sat down at the table after warming up a pre-prepared meal. The small parcel on the wood top became the elephant in the room and they both occasionally glanced at it while eating.

"Are you going to open it…?" Shera gently asked her husband, and he responded with an indecisive grunt. Last time he opened anything from one of his parents it didn't go well. Of course, he knew his mama to be a much more trust worthy person, very free spirited and never in one place, but trustworthy. Cid was wary of opening it anyway.

"I opened the last one." Cid argued. "S'got both our names on it. You can open it this time."

"It is your mother, Captain. I don't know her very well. I think this letter is more for you." She smoothly retorted.

"C'mon Shera I-" Cid didn't even finish his sentence. He was up and out of his seat the very second he heard a cry. Shera watched him disappear up the stairs with a sigh. _Fine_, she'd open it this time.

_Yoo-hoo! _

_I couldn't help but hear you two were in a tight bunch. Wait, where are my manners?! First of all, con-grat-u-lations! Had _no_ clue I was a grandmammay. You'd better send me plenty of pictures of your precious little girls! Take them my way to visit when you can. I mean it. I haven't heard from my son since the Cetra discovered fire, so you can tell I'm pleasantly surprised. Shera, I would love to meet, and see how Cid is treating you. So, your hiding days are up. I'm coming for you. Be ready. _

_Now, back to business. As I was writing before, I couldn't help but hear my husband's been creeping around again. Not the first time it's happened. I should keep him on a tighter leash, or slap some gloves on his sticky fingers. The son of a gun is harder to track down than a half carat diamond in a white carpet floor. What the hell is he going to steal next? The entire wealth of Wutai?! Good God I hope not. That's what I get for marrying the human embodiment of a treasure hoarding, over grown lizard. Whatever. Point is, I decided to hunt him down help you out. You're welcome~_

_Cidney, sweetheart~! Your Mammy loves and misses you. Call me you damn brat!_

_And Shera, I'm serious about that visit y'hear?! Clear out your schedule when I come by, we're getting our nails done, honey!_

_P.S. Held him by his neck to a jet turbine and had Johnathan fork over a little extra. Consider it an equal exchange for all the random trouble. xoxo!_

Shera read the letter over again a second time. She could certainly believe that this was Cid's mother. When she stuck her hand back into the envelope the scented, floral stationary had been in, she found another item. It was a check for over twenty thousand gil; filled out by Johnny G. Highwind himself. The memo: _for being a dirty thief!_ was written in the same feminine cursive as the letter.

"Cid…"

"Wah? What's the damage? She comin' for somethin', too?" He was holding a bottle to Samson's mouth with his chin while he carefully held the infant on his way down the stairs. Thank god she was the only one awake for now. No guarantee who was going to keep them up later that night.

"Cid, come and look." Shera sank further in her chair. She removed her glasses and placed them on the table next to her empty plate. She wiped the moisture that began to form in her eyes. Shera was so _relieved_. They had to reply as soon as possible.

"What is it?!" Cid saw her tears first and assumed the absolute worse. He was almost afraid to take the letter from her as they switched.

"Just read it. Look." Shera took Samson in her arms and dabbed the rest of the dampness from her ducts.

"Ah, shit!" The Captain's eyes tore over the paper.

"Isn't it great news? That was so kind of her to go out of her way and get out money back. I finally think things are going to be okay." She swayed; rocking her daughter while she ate.

"No it ain't! My Mama's comin'!"

"Cid…"

Another rotation of feeding passed by and tiredness was beginning to creep up on Shera. The dishes were cleared away in the sink hours ago and doors locked up for the night. While Cid was finishing his final calls, she took some time out before bed to write Dottie a prompt reply. She couldn't thank Cid's mother enough. The check would be deposited as soon as possible the very next day. Both parents were in the bed by nine, and up again by twelve. And in the bed by twelve thirty, and awake yet again by four. She had tagged out, and Cid rolled himself from bed instead.

A long while had passed this time. Shera collected her glasses, and gathered some motivation to see what was taking Cid so long to bottle feed, or change whoever was awake. She sleepily teetered in supposing that she'd find the Captain grumbling in the rocking chair, but he was standing in the center of the room watching. She came to a brief stop beside him and gazed at the no longer empty cribs that filled the room. Three beautiful mobiles were twinkling above their wooden supports. Each were adorned with thick baby blankets, and three lazily turning windmills cast light that crackled with kaleidoscopic patterns off to each side.

"How you feelin'?" Cid spoke after a drawn out, comfortable silence.

"Reassured. Sore. A little odd, but not in a bad way. I'm so used to them here," Shera placed her hand on her flattened stomach. "but now they're there. I can see and hold them."

"Cain't say I know how you feel." Cid spoke honestly. It was an accurate response. "But m here for ya, Shera." That went without saying.

"How are you feeling, Captain?" Shera returned the question.

"Fuckin' beat. But y'know what?"

"What?"

"I feel good. We've got work to do, Mama."


End file.
